Samba: A Story of the Rubber Slaves of the Congo

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XXIII

  Elbel Squares Accounts

  Jack saw through it all now. Elbel had captured his uncle, and usedhim to decoy from the fort the enemy whom fair fighting and openmanoeuvres had failed to dislodge. He could have shot the Belgian withhis rifle where he stood, but saw in a flash how vain the action wouldbe. Outside was a horde of savage natives, who would instantly wreakvengeance on the white men. Mr. Martindale was too weak to resist, andwhat he would suffer at their hands was too horrible to be thought of.

  When Elbel had spoken Jack turned once more to his uncle, and kneelingdown by his bedside clasped his hand. His pressure was returned butfeebly. Mr. Martindale's weakness, coupled with his distress at Jack'scapture, rendered him unable to speak.

  "I beg you listen to me," said Elbel. "I have a varrant for the arrestof Chon Martindale, Chon Shalloner, and a third man, whose name I donot know, on a charge dat dey incite de natives to rebel against deCongo Free State. I have two of the dree; dat is vell. It vill be foryour advantage, to-morrow, to send a written order to de third man torender dat fort on de hill. It vill be for your advantage at de trial.If de fort resist longer, and cause blood to spill, it vill be so muchde vorse for you ven you appear before de court in Boma."

  "Where is your warrant, Mr. Elbel?" asked Jack.

  "Ah! I have it not viz me; of course, it is in my camp."

  "I suppose you are going to take us there? You can show it to me whenwe get there."

  "No, you meestake. I vill not take you to my camp. I vill send youboth at vunce to Boma, vere you vill be tried."

  "But my uncle is not in a condition to travel; you know that."

  "Bah! He vas in condition to travel here; vell, he is in condition totravel back."

  "But that is preposterous, Mr. Elbel. Are you absolutely inhuman? Ifind my uncle so ill that he cannot even speak to me. God knows howmuch his illness is due to you or your friends. At least you willallow him to remain until I can give him some little attention--untilhe regains a little strength. To do anything else will be nothing lessthan murder."

  "Dat is not my affair," said Elbel with a shrug. "It is instructed meto send you to Boma. To Boma zerefore muss you go, and at vunce."Then, as a thought struck him, he added, "Though truly I will vait vunday, two days perhaps, if you give command to de man in de fort torender himself."

  "Never!" came in a fierce whisper from the bed. Mr. Martindale hadgathered his little strength for Jack's sake. "Never! We will make noterms with you. What my nephew has done he has done merely inself-defence against the acts, the illegal acts, of you and yourfreebooters. I am an American citizen; he is a British subject; asyou, yes, and your Free State, will find to your cost."

  He spoke in feeble gasps, yet with an energy that spoke of anunconquerable spirit. The exertion exhausted him, and he fell back onthe bed from which he had half risen.

  "Bah! Fine vords!" said Elbel. "Ver' fine vords, monsieur. You sayyou are American--you dink dat frighten me! Vy, I laugh. Vat good isde American or de English in de Congo Free State? Ve mock of dem. Vehave our own vays to deal viz such canaille. You vill not send orderto de fort? Ver' vell; I do vizout."

  "Your warrant won't hold in any case. No one can order the arrest of aman unnamed."

  "You zink so? Ver' vell, it does not matter. You vill haveopportunity to zink about my vords as you promenade yourselves to Boma.So I vish you bonsoir. To attempt to escape, I tell you it isimpossible. You see dat? You hab revolver, Mr. Shalloner. Be so kindto gif me dat."

  Jack hesitated. But he saw that resistance was useless, and handedover the weapon.

  "Danks. In de morning you vill begin your promenade to Boma. Aurevoir, messieurs; au revoir Monsieur Chon Shalloner!"

  He left the tent. The interview had been too much for Mr. Martindale.He lay half unconscious, and was scarcely roused when Elbel, in acouple of minutes, returned in a towering rage.

  "You, Chon Shalloner!" he shouted. "You make de natives to rebel, andmore, you make dem to do murder. Dat man, who I sent to the fort, helie now outside, a dead man. Some vun dat come viz you he stab him inde back. You English hombog, I teach you. Dey shall know of dis inBoma."

  Jack did not condescend to answer him, and Elbel flung out of the tent.If his messenger was dead, he had paid the penalty of his treachery.Jack could only pity the poor wretch for meeting with such an end insuch a service. No doubt it was Samba's doing. Jack remembered nowthe groan and the fall outside. Had Samba escaped? He was anxious onthe boy's behalf, but it was impossible to ascertain what had happenedto him. From Elbel's manner and words he inferred that Samba was safe.And as for Elbel's indignation at the deed Jack was not impressed byit. When he thought of the murders and maimings this man wasanswerable for, he could find no blame for the faithful boy who hadpunished as his instincts taught him, the spy who had betrayed hismaster.

  Jack was left alone with his uncle. He looked vainly round the tentfor a restorative--a drug, a flask of brandy, even a cup of water.There was nothing. He bent over the still form, and touching the brow,gently, felt it burning with the heat of fever. He knew that his unclewas accustomed to keep a small phial of quinine pills in his waistcoatpocket, and searching for that he found it and persuaded the sick manto swallow a little of the medicine. Then he sat on the foot of thebed, not knowing what to do.

  How fully his forebodings had been justified! It had been a mistake toleave the fort. And yet he could not rue it, for otherwise he mightnever have seen his uncle again. He looked at the face with thehalf-closed eyes; how thin it was! how pale! The ruddy hue, therounded shape of health, were gone. Where was that bright twinklingeye that looked so shrewdly out from beneath a shaggy brow? Whatsufferings he must have undergone! At that moment Jack looked over thepast months to the day when he so light-heartedly bade his unclegood-bye, and so cheerfully accepted the charge laid upon him. How hewished they had never been parted!

  And then another thought drove out his regret. But for this partingIlombekabasi would never have been, and several hundreds of poor blackpeople would almost certainly have been tortured, mutilated, done todeath, in the name of law. Could he have done otherwise than he haddone? Had Providence, moving in mysterious ways, arranged allthis--that one should suffer for the sake of many? He did not know; hecould not think; his mind seemed to be wrapt in a cloud of mist,through which he saw nothing but the present fact--that his uncle laybefore him, sick--perhaps unto death.

  By and by a negro entered, bearing food and palm wine. Mr. Martindalecould not eat, but the wine revived him.

  "Jack, old boy!"

  Jack knelt by the bedside, clasping his uncle's hand.

  "Jack, I must tell you what happened."

  "Don't, Uncle; you will distress yourself."

  "No, I shall do myself no harm. If you will be patient--for I shall beslow--a little at a time, Jack. You must know. I've got pretty nearlyto the end of my tether, dear boy. I shan't live to do anything forthese poor niggers, but you will--you will, Jack. And I want you tovow here, at this moment, to do what I must leave undone--fight theCongo State, Jack, fight Leopold, with your hands, your tongue, yourpen, here, in Europe, in America; fight him in the name of humanity andof God. Promise me that, Jack, so that if I do not live till themorning I shall at least die happy."

  "God helping me, Uncle, I will."

  Mr. Martindale pressed his hand. For some time there was silence, thenthe elder man began again.

  "I must try to speak calmly, my boy; I have so little strength; but itis hard. I told you in my first letter of what I had learnt about theways of the Congo State. You wondered, I dare say, why I nevermentioned them again. You will understand why. When I got to Boma, Ireported to the Governor-General, in a written memorial, the incidentsthat occurred as we went up the river--the altercation with Elbel, theattempt on our canoes, the night attack on our camp, frustrated bySamba. (I can't tell you how glad I was, Jack, when you told me
theboy had returned to you.) I forestalled the probable answer that Elbelhad nothing to do with those attempts by pointing out that the negroesSamba saw were fully armed, and must have been under a white man'scontrol. Even then it was illegal, for I found that men in Elbel'sposition, representing Concessions, are not entitled to take more thanfive riflemen as escort beyond the limits of their trading factories.In my memorial I said that, after these attacks on me, I should beforced in self-defence to arm a certain number of my followers, and Idisclaimed responsibility for the consequences. I also reported thescene of desolation at Banonga, and the story I had heard from Samba'slips; and called upon the Governor-General to take instant action inthe matter."

  Jack moistened his uncle's lips, and he continued:

  "I got an acknowledgment, polite enough, even pleasant, promising thatthese matters should be inquired into. The Governor-General added thatthe possession of firearms and the arming of the natives beingprohibited by law, I should become liable to heavy penalties andimprisonment if the law was broken. I had luckily already sent you therifles and ammunition; though had I not done so, I could easily havebribed an official to give me a permit to carry arms; it would havecost me five hundred francs for the licence, and as much as I chose forthe bribe.

  "For a week I heard no more. I was deceived by the politeness of theGovernor-General's letter into believing that I was perfectly safe, andfree to do, in this Free State, what I had come to do. I set about mybusiness, and, as I told you, bought a little machinery, from a fellownamed Schwab, agent for a Duesseldorf firm. But I was a marked man.One day an officer came and asked me to show my patent. I did so. Theman complained that it was not properly filled up; my name was spelledwith an 'e' instead of an 'i'--Martendale! I laughed at him, and hewent away in a huff. Next day another fellow came and said that mypatent was worthless. Since it had been granted a new arrangement hadbeen entered into between the Concession and the State, and all themineral rights in the district reverted to the State. I laughed atthat; a patent granted by the Concession and authorized by the Statecould not be revoked; it had five years to run, and I meant to stick toit. They wanted to bluff me--an American!--out of it.

  "But things began to go badly with me. I was practically boycotted,Jack. None of the storekeepers would supply me with anything I wanted.One of them frankly told me that to do so was as much as his life wasworth. I did not believe him at first. But I found it was only tootrue. A storekeeper in Boma I heard of--a British subject, Jack, fromthe Gold Coast--had a part in showing up the rascality of some legalproceedings that had recently taken place. The officials gave theword. He was boycotted; his trade dwindled; he became bankrupt; one ofhis sons was driven mad by the persecution he suffered; and histroubles and worries so preyed upon the old man's mind that he took hisown life.

  "Then I fell ill. It was a near touch, Jack. Only the devotion of afellow-countryman--a fine fellow from Milwaukee--saved my life.Remember his name, Jack--Theodore Canrehan; if you ever meet him, andcan do him a good turn, do it for my sake. When I got on my feetagain, I was amazed to find the tune changed. Everybody was as sweetas butter. The officers came and apologized to me; they regretted theunfortunate misunderstandings that had arisen; they would do all intheir power to forward my business. I arranged for the dispatch of themachinery I had ordered from Europe, and started to return. I couldn'tmake out what had made them suddenly so attentive; thought it wasbecause I was an American, and they had some respect for the Stars andStripes after all. Canrehan told me that since I sailed a strongfeeling had been growing in America with regard to the Congo question;and I flattered myself the State authorities weren't anxious to addfuel to the flames by provoking a real serious grievance in which anAmerican was concerned. But it was all a trap, Jack--all a trap. Isaw it too late--too late."

  Hitherto Mr. Martindale had spoken slowly and calmly, husbanding hisstrength. But at this point his feeling overcame him.

  "Don't talk any more now, Uncle," said Jack, fearing that the exertionwould be too much for him. "Tell me the rest another time. Try tosleep. I will watch over you. Thank God I shall be with you in thejourney to Boma. You'll pull through even now, and we shall be able tofight together."

  Mr. Martindale had already fallen into a doze. Jack did his best tomake his bed more comfortable, and watched him through the night,pacing round the tent for hours together to keep himself awake. Fromtime to time his thoughts went back to the fort. What was Barneydoing? What would he do when morning came and yet the absent had notreturned? What would be the fate of the poor people committed to hischarge? At present all was dark to Jack. It seemed that he and allconnected with him were now in the fell grip of the Congo State.

  As soon as it was light Elbel came into the tent.

  "I hope you had good night," he said, with a grin. "You vill havebreakfast, den you vill begin your promenade. Tventy-five Askari villescort you. You vill go to de river vere Mr. Martindale left hiscanoes; dey are still dere. Ah! he did hide dem, but vat good? Youvill go on canoes till you come to de falls; dere you vill for a timevoyage overland. By and by you come to Stanleyville; dere you findsteamer; de State officers vill have care of you de rest of de vay toBoma. You understan'?"

  "I warn you, Mr. Elbel, that I shall hold you responsible for myuncle's safety down the river. You see for yourself he is not fit totravel. I shall take the earliest opportunity of informing theAmerican Government of your actions--your persecution, for it is noless."

  "Dat is all right," returned Elbel, grinning again. "De courts at Bomavill give immediate attention. De judges, dey are excellent. Nowstill vunce before you go, write de order to de vite man in your fortto render himself. It vill profit you."

  "Never!" said Jack. "Go and execute your warrant."

  "Ver' vell, ver' vell. It matters noding. In a half-hour de Askarivill be here. You be ready."

  Jack managed to get his uncle to eat a little food. He seemed somewhatstronger and less feverish than on the preceding evening. At seveno'clock the twenty-five soldiers appeared, accompanied by eight men ascarriers. Mr. Martindale recognized these as belonging to the party hehad brought up the river; the rest of his men, he supposed, had beenimpressed by Elbel for service in his camp. It being obvious that thesick man was unable to walk, a litter had been constructed for him. Hewas placed on this. Four men were told off to carry it, the other fourbearing food sufficient to last the whole party until they reached thecanoes.

  Jack had wondered whether he was to be manacled; but the prestige ofthe white man, not any consideration for his feelings, had preventedElbel from going to such extremes. But as he stood behind his uncle'slitter, two Askari with loaded rifles placed themselves one on eachside of him.

  When the party were ready to start, Elbel sauntered up, his handsbehind his back, and, approaching Jack, said with a smile:

  "Now, Mr. Shalloner, before ve part I have a little vat you callreckoning viz you. You strike me vunce, tvice, viz your feest. Dat isde English vay--de boxe, hein?" Elbel showed his teeth. "On de Congove have anoder vay--de chicotte. Vun does not soil vun's hands. So!"

  He took from behind his back a hippopotamus-hide whip, and, cuttingshort so as to avoid the Askari close beside Jack, dealt him two cutswith his utmost strength. Jack clenched his teeth to stifle a cry asthe edges of the thong cut through his thin clothes.

  "Dere! Now are ve quits!"

  As he spoke Jack, blazing with anger and mortification, made a fiercespring at him. But Elbel was ready: he jumped nimbly backwards, whilehalf a dozen Askari rushed between them, and pinioned Jack's arms.

  Honour was satisfied--so Elbel appeared to think, for with a grin ofmalicious triumph he nodded to the Askari in charge: the party mightnow proceed.

  "You see," said Elbel, as they moved away, "if you try to escape youvill be shot. I vish you agreeable promenade."